


One Really Crappy Tank Top

by transmothmun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Theyre gay, ft. Shiro's Wardrobe, lance is probably still in college? shiro just graduated, thats all - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmothmun/pseuds/transmothmun
Summary: Shiro is steadily running out of clothes, but Lance just looks too good in them.





	One Really Crappy Tank Top

Shiro looked through his closet with a long suffering sigh. His shirts and sweaters had been disappearing alarmingly quickly over the past weeks. Much as he would have liked to blame a thief or a mischievous Pidge, he knew very well that he had no one to blame for his clothing shortage but himself. It wasn’t as though he had to keep giving away his clothes, but, well…   

He was a weak man, and his boyfriend looked so, so cute in his clothes. They were almost obnoxiously large on his leaner frame, certainly, but that made it all the more endearing. Shiro really didn’t have the willpower to ask for Lance’s growing collection back, alright? There you go. He admitted it. He just kept telling his boyfriend to keep the things he stole, and Lance- of course- had no idea of the predicament Shiro had put himself in.

He probably should have asked for some back. He knew that Lance would gladly laugh about it and return some, if not all, of his things. He’d probably be teased relentlessly about it for the next week, of course, but he never really minded Lance’s teasing (and that may have something to do with the way he seemed to shine when he was amused, but no one was asking). But, to reiterate, Takashi Shirogane was a weak, weak man and, well… Should he probably have at least stopped giving Lance his clothes? Shut up, is the answer.

Shiro knew Lance wasn’t stupid. His boyfriend had probably already figured out what was happening several weeks ago. In fact, he was quite sure he did- Shiro wasn’t blind to the smug little grins the smaller had on whenever he stole away with yet another article of his. It kept happening anyway, and it came to a head when Shiro was left with a single tank top, and one of his older ones, to boot.

“Shiro, love?” Lance was lounging on his couch, where he’d originally been watching Cutthroat Kitchen. He wasn’t anymore, his gaze instead turned towards Shiro’s bedroom. If his tone of voice was anything to judge by, he was probably wearing that mischievous grin that always seemed to mean trouble. “This is the third day in a row you’ve worn that shirt.”

Ah. There it was.

“Uhm.” Shiro replied, because he was a very eloquent man. He shut the closet door and returned to the living room. “Because I really like it?”

Based on the stifled laughter now coming from the couch, it wasn’t very successful, not that he had particularly expected it to be. “Really? Because you’ve had it for years now, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve worn it.” Shiro walked around to the front of the room, very pointedly not staring at Lance’s exposed shoulders or the slouch of the too large sweatshirt he was wearing, because his thirst had no place in this conversation, thank you very much.

For a little while, the only noise was the quiet drone of chefs being demolished from the T.V. Lance was giving him an expectant look as Shiro struggled to come up with another excuse that might actually make sense, despite being relatively sure that his boyfriend already knew that he’d stolen the rest of his clothes.

Eventually, before Shiro came up with something adequate, Lance continued to speak, his tone somewhere between exasperated, fond, and slightly amused, his smirk fading into a softer smile. “You could have just asked for your things back, love. It isn’t as though I don’t have clothes of my own.”

Though he probably could have taken the mature route and simply agreed, got his things, and continued on- there were an awful lot of ‘could have’s and ‘should have’s’ when it came to Lance these days- Shiro pouted and sunk into the couch as well, pulling his boyfriend into his lap.

“But I like you better in my clothes.” That elicited a small laugh from Lance, and Shiro was soon grinning as well. “And I thought you liked them better too.”

“Maybe, but much as I like you shirtless, I’m sure the public wouldn’t agree. Besides,” Lance’s smile became a little smug again. “The main reason I like wearing your clothes is because they smell like you. And that quality tends to fade a little bit after I wash them- why else would I keep stealing them?”

Shiro contemplated that for a little while, moving to rest his head atop of Lance’s and internally revelling in the other’s warmth. “I guess you’re probably right.”

“Probably?” Lance wriggled away at that, a look of exaggerated offense taking over his expression as he brought a hand to his chest in the most dramatic, Lance-like way possible. “I’ll have you know that I am always right. Always. There is no probably about it.”

Stifling his amusement did nothing to calm his boyfriend’s supposed offense, so Shiro tugged him back into a hug, snickering slightly as Lance struggled and failed to escape his arms again. “Last week you said you knew how to skate, and you ended up falling into a pond.”

“I did that on purpose!” Lance’s cry of outrage was muffled by Shiro’s chest, though he’d long since stopped attempting to get away. Shiro, still shaking with laughter, pulled away enough to kiss to the other’s forehead. “I did!”

“Of course you did, sweetheart. I never doubted you.” It wasn’t very believable, as his laughter was only just subsiding, but Lance nonetheless seemed pacified by it, snuggling back into Shiro’s embrace and wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I can grab your clothes tomorrow after work, if you’d like. Most of them are clean.”

Shiro pressed another kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head, expression fading into an affectionate smile once more before he settled back into the arm of the couch. “I can pick them up myself, you know.”

He could almost feel the disappointment radiating off of Lance. “Maybe I just wanted another excuse to come over.”

“Since when have you needed an excuse to come over? You practically live here at this point.”

Lance paused for a moment. Shiro imagined he was probably deciding how offended he needed to be at that. “You’re lucky I love you, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> god this is just some  
> shitty drabble   
> im sorry
> 
> someday ill get back to, yknow, actually writing the chaptered fics, but who knows when that will be, really


End file.
